


The Eternal Blight

by YoroiNoKyojin



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Holidays, Human/Monster Romance, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27310165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoroiNoKyojin/pseuds/YoroiNoKyojin
Summary: Halloween was upon them, and not only had the Entity decided to mock them with awful realm decorations, it decided to stick Meg Thomas in a trial with none other than the Trapper. Meg pursed her lips, trying to fight back the sudden curiosity that welled up inside her stomach. It wasn’t a huge secret that there was some sort of connection between the Trapper and Meg, but no one, including the red-head herself, really knew what that connection was.The holidays, however hollow and meaningless they now were, had a way of filling some survivors with hope. Meg decided to act on that hope and seek the killer out. Maybe she'd get answers from him. Maybe she'd receive a whole lot more.MegMillan one-shot!
Relationships: Evan MacMillan | The Trapper/Meg Thomas
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	The Eternal Blight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cyberra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberra/gifts), [Wazzup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wazzup/gifts).



> HAPPY SAMHAIN EVERYONE! I wanted to post a little Holiday work before I went off to do my own celebrations and what better way to do that than post some MegMillan Eternal Blight holiday stuff?! :D Sorry for any errors, this was written and uploaded in the span of a couple hours. I'm gifting this to my friends Cyberra and Wazzup - Cyberra for following so avidly and encouragingly on my DBD story "Memory Logs," and Wazzup for just being so encouraging about all my writing in general. Thank you both so so much for hopping on for the ride and sticking with me! <3

_ The Entity must have a twisted sense of humor,  _ Meg Thomas thought with an irritable sigh,  _ because this is just cruel. _

She and Jake Park walked by a group of pustulating, glowing plants that seemed to stretch and yaw like strange land anemones. “Happy Halloween, I think,” Jake mumbled as they exchanged looks of utter disgust. 

“Reminds me of the new guy,” Meg replied, scrunching her nose.

“Felix? He doesn’t look  _ that  _ bad.” The only sign that Jake was joking was the hint of a smile on his lips.

Meg rolled her eyes, setting to work on the closest generator, which was decorated with more of the Entity’s hollow attempts at festivity. As Jake worked alongside her, the two fell into a comfortable silence - even though nothing really changed around the holidays, just knowing they were happening was enough to fill some of the survivors with a ray of hope. Or at least a slightly brighter disposition. After a minute or so, Kate crept over to them, hopping on another side of the machine to help. “Any news?” Jake asked.

“So quiet ya could hear a moth piss on cotton,” Kate replied, focused on her task. “But I saw a bear trap. Y’all know what that means.”

Meg pursed her lips, trying to fight back the sudden curiosity that welled up inside her stomach. It wasn’t a huge secret that there was some sort of connection between the Trapper and Meg, but no one, including the red-head herself, really knew what that connection was.

All she knew was that for some reason, he refused to hurt her. Meg had used this to the survivors’ advantage on more than one occasion, but after a while she’d begun to feel guilty about it - mainly because there was something to him… the way he looked at her… she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but the hunter seemed fascinated by her and in turn she’d become quite intrigued by him, as well. The silence was broken by Meg’s uncertain voice. “You two got this one?”

“Go sow your wild oats, darlin.” Kate flashed her a smile.

Meg hurried off, looking around for any sign of their killer. She saw several traps along the way, but none of them had been set - she also hadn’t heard any screams, so perhaps he… simply wasn’t trying anymore. Maybe it wasn’t that he was fascinated with her… perhaps he just gave up. The brief thought was somehow disheartening.

Creeping around the corner of the main building at the MacMillan Estate, Meg banished the thought. She’d seen the way he peered at her through the holes in his mask; there was something there, she just  _ knew it. _

Rounding the corner, the red-head paused; at the entrance to the building, with his back to her, was the Trapper. Evan, she’d heard some others call him. Whether that really was his name or not, she wasn’t sure - but regardless, that was the name she found tumbling from her lips.

“E-Evan?”

The name seemed to stun the both of them. The moment the Trapper turned his head sharply to stare at her, shoulders bunched up with tension, she gasped and froze in her spot, staring at him with wide eyes. 

But he didn’t move. He simply stared.

“I-I don’t know why I even said that,” she mumbled, feeling a nauseating mixture of embarrassment and fear in her stomach. “But it seems like… like that really is your name. Right…?”

Finally his body turned with his head and he fully faced her, his cleaver firmly grasped in one hand and a bear-trap clenched in the other. Meg’s first instinct was to take a step back, to run, but he’d never hurt her. And for some reason, she was beginning to think he never would. The only mind games the Trapper played were the strategic placement of his traps, often under a pallet or at a window. 

The hand holding the bear trap relinquished its grip and the contraption fell to the ground with a thud. That hand came up and he touched his own chest, dirtied fingers smearing soot across his mottled skin. “Evan.” Then that hand reached out, pointing directly at her. “... Meg.”

The fear and embarrassment began to quell and Meg nodded, her expression brightening just a little. “Yeah, Meg,” she said, daring to take a step closer. And another, once she saw he wasn’t moving a muscle, simply watching her. This wasn’t the first time she’d been brave enough to get close to him, and she doubted it would be the last. But it  _ was  _ the first time she dared to have a conversation with him. “Do you… uhm, like the decorations?”

At this point, the hulking man turned his gaze away from her, staring back at the building. Unable to see what he was looking at, she crept closer, only stopping when she was a mere two feet away from him. Peeking inside the building, Meg gave pause, squinting. Those ugly, pulsing plants were everywhere, joining jack-o-lanterns and other glowing relics in decorating the factory building. “The stupid Entity is putting this crap everywhere,” she said, bitterness in her voice. “Like these hideous decorations will make us celebrate Halloween. What a joke.”

The Trapper didn’t move. Simply stared inside the building. His voice rumbled low, quiet in his chest - like a bear. “All Hallows Eve… I never… celebrated it.”

Meg finally broke her gaze from the factory to tip her head back, looking up at the massive man. She couldn’t see his expression behind that grinning white mask, but she could tell his jaw was clenched painfully tight. “Well, I don’t have any candy to give you, but you could celebrate now,” she joked awkwardly, trying to ease the tension. “You’ve already got a costume on!”

That caused him to finally shift his eyes down toward her. Staring. A dull white in color; as if the Entity had sucked all the life out of him when it brought him here. For the first time, the thought occurred to her that maybe… maybe some of these killers didn’t want this any more than the survivors did. It was a ludicrous thought, and yet the way he was looking at her felt like… like a cry for help.

Meg felt the sudden, strange urge to comfort him.

“Come on,” she beckoned, walking further inside the building, up to one of the strange visceral cankers. With a mischievous grin, she knelt in front of one of them. “Jake told me that if you poke at it, it shoots this goo at you that’s supposed to make you run really fast. I never know when to take him seriously about this kind of stuff, though.”

The Trapper came up behind her, standing a foot back and still simply watching. He hadn’t dropped his cleaver, but had made absolutely no moves to hit her. She turned her head to look up at him, grinning cheekily. “Wanna give it a try?” Receiving no response from him, the red-head poked at one of the pustulating flowers and immediately a glowing substance squirted from its center, getting the killer right on the mask -

-which immediately started sizzling and melting. Meg yelped, stood to her feet, and acted immediately - reaching up to help him get the mask off as he dropped his cleaver and struggled with it.

Meg felt herself land on the floor with a grunt in the tussle; when her head cleared she found herself holding the mask, which was half-melted and still sizzling lightly… and the Trapper was staring down at her with an angry expression. She found herself caught between being in utter fear at the irritation in his expression, and being in awe of how he looked. 

He was surprisingly…  _ normal.  _ With a sharp nose, high cheekbones, a strong jaw, and narrowed eyes that focused on her, Evan looked like he would have probably been extremely handsome in his old life. Before the Entity took him and warped him into the monster he was now. 

Coming back to herself, Meg scrambled to her feet, surprised at how she still clutched the mask, almost unwilling to part with it. “I-I’m sorry,” she apologized, eyes wide with fear. “I should’ve known better than to trust Jake -”

“Why… are you here?”

His question was sudden and the growl with which he spoke it left Meg shivering - and not in an entirely unpleasant way. “I honestly don’t know,” she finally admitted. “I… I guess I’ve seen the way you look at me, and… I was… curious.”

His brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed again, jaw clenching. Meg found her gaze drawn to his strong jaw, watching it work as he considered what to say. She noticed herself looking at him less like a killer and more like a  _ man  _ as time passed. Another generator went off in the distance, signalling the others’ readiness to leave, but Meg wasn’t content with that. She waited, poised for him to give some sort of answer. Finally, Evan rumbled, “I don’t… look at you.”

Now it was her turn to scowl. What a sullen little child. “That’s bullshit and you know it,” she said bravely, stomping her foot stubbornly. “I’ve  _ seen  _ you! You refuse to sacrifice me, you refuse to even hit me, and I’ve seen you stop sometimes. Full stride. You’ll just stop. And you’ll stare at me. Sometimes you’ll tilt your head. Like I’m some… science experiment you can’t figure out.” 

He went quiet again, lips pursed into a thin, angry line. Meg pushed forward boldly, wondering why on earth she was about to say what she was going to say, but expressing it anyways. “I think I know what it is.” She took a step toward him; then another, and another. It failed to escape her notice how he tensed up, looking almost nervous as she approached him. Suddenly  _ she  _ felt like the hunter and  _ he  _ was the prey - and she had to admit it felt  _ good.  _ For the first time she, a survivor, was in control of the situation - or as close as she’d ever get to control. Meg’s voice lilted, a smirk curling her lips as she gazed up at him. “I think you stare,  _ Evan,  _ because you  _ like me.” _

“I do  _ not,”  _ he growled threateningly, biceps flexing as his hands clenched and unclenched. “I…  _ can’t.” _

“Who says? The Entity?” the red-head teased, still clutching his mask in one hand while she stopped just in front of him. Meg barely came up to his chest, but she could see in the rigidity of his spine and the trembling of his lips that he was uncomfortable. She tilted her head, watching him try to hide his expressions under a mask of anger. Though her voice was still teasing, there was a genuine question in her mind as she spoke again: “what do you think of when you look at me, then…?”

“... Tiger lilies,” he blurted.

Silence reigned between them as they both tried to comprehend what he’d just said. Meg didn’t know much about flowers, but she knew what tiger lilies were, and they were… well,  _ beautiful.  _ She could feel heat creeping up her cheeks very quickly and she tried to fight it down, having to eventually look away. “Tiger lilies,” she repeated softly.

Evan growled in frustration, turning his head away as well. The silence continued until he finally turned away, preparing to leave - and in a moment of panic, Meg reached out to grab his arm. “W-Wait! Don’t go!”

He stopped, stiffened up entirely, and slowly turned his head to look back at her over his shoulder. His arm was rigid in her grasp, goosebumps appearing on his stained skin. The touch between them had sent electricity through the both of them and, attempting to catch her breath, Meg turned imploring blue-gray eyes up to stare at him. “Why tiger lilies?” she asked.

His brows drew in and he growled again, but made no attempt to move away. “Because,” Evan finally rumbled, voice filled with annoyance, “they are hardy… resilient. They bloom… even in harsh… environments.” A pause. “Also… they are orange.”

“Like my hair,” Meg finished with a roll of her eyes and a rueful smile. She felt she should let go of his arm - but found herself extremely reluctant to do so. And he’d made no move to shuffle out of her grasp, either… 

Keeping her grip on his arm, the red-head let her feet move of their own accord, taking her where they willed. She shifted around him, moving to climb just two or three steps so that she could be eye-level with him. All the while the killer merely watched her suspiciously, unmoving and unfaltering. Meg wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing - merely acting on instinct, she supposed - but the hand on his arm eventually let go to lift to his face, fingers ghosting along his skin. 

He visibly flinched under her touch, and then his lip curled into a snarl, as if disgusted with himself for his weakness. Evan jerked his head away from her, looking away but still making no moves to leave. “It’s okay,” Meg said, voice surprisingly gentle as she tried once more. The tips of her fingers dragged slowly down his cheek, turning his head back toward her, and blue-gray eyes met milky white ones. The connection between them, whatever it was, intensified with a simple look. “Tiger lilies,” she repeated, lips curling into a hint of a smile.

His lips pursed. Meg fought back the urge to laugh at his stoicism, and instead said, “you don’t seem like much of a gardener.”

“I wasn’t,” he rumbled. His voice was hesitant, as if the current subject was a difficult one for him. “My mother… was.”

Meg blinked. She hadn’t been expecting to hear anything about his past, and it seemed difficult enough for him, so she wasn’t going to push it. Instead she simply grinned down at him, her hand resting firmly on his face. “Tiger lilies are also beautiful,” she murmured softly. “Is that what you think of me…?”

His eyes widened only slightly before narrowing on her. Immediately Meg felt two strong hands grab her effortlessly, dragging her off the stairs and pushing her back against a wall. A bubble of fear welled up in her stomach, mixing with an odd feeling of desire and exhilaration as her back hit the cold metal, the warmth of the man’s massive body pressing against her front. The scent of burning coals, woodland spice, and whiskey filled her nose, intoxicating her. She tipped her head back to stare up at him, her shock registered all over her face, and found something strange simmering in his dull white eyes.

_ “Yes,”  _ he growled.

Heat blasted through her, setting her body on fire as he leaned his head down, face coming closer to hers. Suddenly the loud siren of the exit gate opening broke them apart and as Jake ran by the building, he stopped and spotted them. “Meg!” he called out to her with a beckoning hand. “Kate’s opening up the gate!  _ Look out!” _

Meg’s gaze shifted up to the man looming over her. Her hand went up to rest on his chest, over his heart, stunning them both. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but his heart thrummed strongly, steadily under her fingers, rhythmic and sure. She took a breath, their eyes locked, and finally she tore away from him, sprinting toward Jake.

The journey to the gate was short and the entire way Meg found herself thinking about tiger lilies. Jake looked at her like she’d grown another head but she refused to talk about it, preferring to keep that conversation all to herself. And as she left through the gate, returning to the campfire, the presence of something in her hand startled her.

It was Evan’s mask. She hadn’t let go of it the entire time.

As Meg returned to her tent, tired but no worse for wear, she looked down at the half-melted mask, still clutched in her hands. A smile curled her lips. That trial had been extremely strange, but for some reason, she couldn’t help but think that this was the best Halloween she’d had in a long time.


End file.
